


Is it gay to want to draw your friend a lot?

by Totally_Here



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Talentswap (Dangan Ronpa), How Do I Tag, I make the rules, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Oma is only there for a bit, Serial Killers, also Ouma and Saihara are friends here, and of course it's shinsai, cuz ynkow, discussions of murder and death, no one actually dies tho, not very shippy, until the end ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_Here/pseuds/Totally_Here
Summary: When the so called ultimate detective catches the eye of the ultimate artist, bonding ensues.~CW: Discussion of death and murder.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Saihara Shuichi & Shinguji Korekiyo, Saihara Shuichi/Shinguji Korekiyo
Kudos: 24





	Is it gay to want to draw your friend a lot?

Saihara Shuichi is not squeamish around corpses. In fact, over all the years of making them, he’s gotten quite used to the way they bring down the mood of any setting. Regardless of his relationship with dead bodies, posing as one still feels a little weird. Even if Shinguji’s choice of setting would be a nice place to die. The flowers are beautiful, if a bit itchy, and the way their brightness contrasts Saihara’s dark attire makes him excited to see the finished product, and more ready to be laying in the cool spring weather for more hours than he’d usually be outside on a normal day.

Acting as a model for Shinguji has been increasingly more normal for Saihara as of late. Saihara has learned over the course of their relationship that while he is the ultimate artist, Shinguji’s favorite medium is painting, and he favors portraits, or just depicting people. His first drawing of Saihara was just a small sketch in the middle of class. Well, they call it class but the teacher and half the students rarely show up, so it was mostly just free time in a classroom.

Saihara was looking over a case file (he called it a case file but it was really a profile of his next target) and kept feeling eyes on him. Looking to his right, he found Shinguji shamelessly staring at him. 

“Uh..”

“Saihara-kun, may I draw you?” Shinguji cocked his head to the side.

“H-Huh? Ah, um… why?” Saihara stammered out a response as he felt his face heating up a little. He resisted the urge to pull down his hat.

“I simply want to try and capture your beauty. You would just have to continue working as I draw, would that be alright?” Shinguji placed a bandaged hand to cup his own face, admiring the way the sunlight from outside the classroom made Saihara’s eyes stand out, or how little he could see of them. 

“Oh s-sure.” Saihara timidly replied, and tried to go back to profiling his victim, making notes with now sweaty hands.

Shinguji smiled under his mask and began to make a pencil sketch of Saihara’s side profile. Saihara tried to focus on the specifics of how he would make his target’s death look like a suicide, but measurements of cyanide and fingerprints on guns just seemed to fade to the back of his mind as the methodical pencilstrokes next to him reminded of him that Shinguji was looking at him. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t being accused, that Shinguji wasn’t staring at him because he’s a murderer. Just that he wanted a subject to draw. That last thought made Saihara blush more.

Shinguji simply got to work, not blind to the other’s bashfulness, but capturing emotions is one of his specialities. Embarrassment is an easy emotion to get out of someone if you know what buttons to press. Shinguji managed to complete a base outline of Saihara before the bell rang, and he gave it to him while he placed his case files into his bag.

“Here, I cannot finish it without a reference, but I do not want to keep you long.” Shinguji said after handing over the neatly torn off paper to Saihara.

“Ah, okay. Thank you Shinguji-kun.” Saihara took a look at the picture and felt his face heat up again. Shinguji is a great artist, but he must be exaggerating some of Saihara, right? “It’s really pretty, thank you Shinguji.”

“Well, I was drawing you, was I not? Perhaps another time you could pose for me in earnest?” Shinguji gathered the materials from his desk.

“Huh? I- uh- s-sure! I mean, if you want?” Saihara will never not be awestruck by how Shinguji can just say things like that so casually.

“Splendid. I would love for you to come by the art lab sometime.” Shinguji exits the room, leaving Saihara with a slowly cooling down face and butterflies in his stomach. 

So a week later, Saihara was nervously following Shinguji to the art lab. Shinguji had invited him to join him during lab time since they both know very well that Saihara would rather cut off his own hand than drop by unexpectedly, even if he was invited prior. 

“So, uh, are you alone in your lab?” Saihara questioned, and immediately regretted it. He must have sounded creepy, right? Don’t ask when people are alone, Saihara! He reprimanded himself in his head.

“For the most part, yes. Saionji-san mostly only stops by to use the darkroom in the back, while Hagakure-kun rarely uses it at all,” Shinguji holds the door open for Saihara as they both walk into his lab. “Do you usually have a lot of people in the research lab?”

Technically Saihara did have access to the research lab as a specializing student, but not as the detective he’s pretending to be. The actual ultimate detective, Asahina, actually utilizes the research lab along with the other ultimates that have access to the lab, like the ultimate anthropologist, Momota. The research lab was loud, but so was the dojo that Saihara also had access too (not that Saihara ever once considered going there, that would blow his cover for sure). “Yeah, I think? I don’t actually go to the labs much.”

“I can imagine the more well populated labs would be a tad over-bearing.” Shinguji led Saihara to where his art equipment is set up, a tarp on the floor with evidence of use, as well as an easel in front of a stool. In the corners laid paintings of women that Saihara vaguely recognised. A hint of panic boiled in Saihara’s stomach as he saw Shinguji’s usual choice of subject.

“Do you normally paint only women?” Saihara examined the paintings as Shinguji chose which paints he would be working with.

“Yes, however I thought it would be good to broaden my subject matter.” Shinguji brought his paint tray over to the easel, and placed a canvas on it. “You are not a woman, correct?”

“Ah, yes. Yeah, I’m a boy.” Saihara’s momentary panic dissolved. Shinguji nodded, then motioned for Saihara to sit on the stool.

“Now, for this painting, all I need you to do is stay there. Are you alright with that?” Right, the reason Saihara was there, to be painted. Why Shinguji thought someone like Saihara was worthy of painting was beyond him.

“Yeah, that’s fine I think.” So Saihara sat on the stool and Shinguji started to copy his likeness onto his canvas. Saihara wasn’t completely sure why he agreed to this again. At least this time he didn’t have any work he’s supposed to be doing. That also made it easier to see Shinguji looking at him. He was glancing at Saihara constantly, which made Saihara unsure of where he was supposed to be looking. Which made him think of eyes, which led to glares, which led to the cold, de-

Saihara pushed those thoughts away before he freaked himself out thinking of his past victims. Shinguji looked at him quizzically, but stopped when Saihara caught his gaze. Is Saihara supposed to be looking at him? He should really ask him for more direction next time. Next time? Saihara questioned that, pondering whether he would want to. It’s not like he’s some raging narcissist that wants his own face plastered wall to wall. In reality he can barely look at his own appearance half the time.

Through the eyes of Shinguji maybe Saihara could try to find more comfort in what he looks like. Or at the very least being used as an art prop could probably help his whole eye fear thing. Maybe. It could make it worse, but Saihara doesn’t want to consider that right now, let him be positive for once, gosh dangit!

Soon enough the painting was finished, and Shinguji was putting his paints away. Saihara was looking at the painting, it wasn’t very recognisable, but the blues and yellows melded together to make something like a face. It was the most entrancing way he’d seen his own face.

“You know, I would be pleased to paint you again.” Shinguji said from where he was rinsing his brushes. 

Saihara swung his head around to face Shinguji’s back. “H-Huh?”

“Though, I would also like to spend more time with you, Saihara-kun.” Shinguji placed his brushes off to the side to dry and faced a red-faced Saihara. “Only if you want to as well.”

“Yes! Yeah that sounds fun, I’d, uh, like to get to know you more Shinguji-kun.” So Saihara and Shinguji started to spend lab time in the art lab together. Saihara was glad to learn more about his classmate. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends in his class, but it was mostly just Ouma or occasionally being dragged around my Momota or Akamatsu.

Learning about Shinguji was different though, in a way that made Saihara want to soak up any information Shinguji supplied him, like how he doesn’t like air conditioners, he puts sweetener in his tea but only a little, or that his end goal for his art is to capture human emotions enough to evoke empathy in the viewer. 

The sudden closeness between the two of them didn’t go unnoticed, though. The topic had come up when Saihara was helping Ouma with a weird prank.

“Sooooooo… what’s up with you and Shingucci-chan? Are you two fucking or somthing?” Ouma asked with a nonchalance that made Saihara take a second to process the question.

“W-What? No nothing like that, why would jump to that?” Saihara exclaimed as he pulled his hat down just a bit lower (he’d been having his hat higher on his head around Ouma lately, so the action made Ouma frown for a second before he flipped his expression).

“Hmmmmm…. Who knows~? Maaaybe the whore robot is having an effect on me? Guess I’ll have to send her to antarctica…” Ouma paused his gluing to make a creepy face.

“Please don’t.” Saihara glued the small plastic babies in his hand together.

“Too late, I already sent the order out to my magic troup!” Ouma emphasized his statement with a teasing smirk, which was met by a loving eye roll from Saihara. “But seriously, why’re you even hanging out with him? He seems totally creepy! But maybe I’m lying?”

Ah, so he wants to know if Shinguji is being creepy to him, Saihara thought. Ouma might not like outwardly expressing his motives, but Saihara has at least figured out some of his weird ways of expressing concern. “I don’t think he’s creepy. He’s… he just gets a bit too into his interests sometimes. It’s actually really nice to hear him talk about what he enjoys.” 

Ouma raised an eyebrow at him, and started to move his hand to his cheek, but was stopped by the glue gun. “Hmm… y’know, if Saihara-chan goes off and gets a new best friend… I’ll totally cry! Who will I pester during class then?” 

Ouma made a very obviously fake sad face at Saihara, complete with teary eyes. Saihara gave him a ‘really?’ look. “We’re literally making a baby crown for Akamatsu-san right now. I think you’ll manage.”

Ouma laughed his stupid laugh, agreeing. He placed some freshly glued babies into their planned spot before speaking again, “Saihara-chan should still be wary of Shinguji-chan, the guy’s sketchy.”

Saihara couldn’t deny this, so he simply nodded and the conversation topic changed. Shinguji was sketchy, and the paintings in his lab confirmed it. When Saihara thought he recognised the girls, he was right. Unfortunately. He had made a promise to himself to inquire about it once he knew Shinguji better.

And inquire he did. It was a Saturday, he and Shinguji were in the greenspace on campus sitting together at one of the picnic tables. Shinguji was sketching one of the trees, while Saihara was making time calculations across from him. Saihara had paid attention to who was around when they were walking here, and felt that the lack of anyone else was a good setting to confront Shinguji.

“Shinguji-kun, may I ask about the paintings you have in your lab?” Saihara resisted the urge to pull down his hat. He would have to stay confident to get through this. Wear the skin of the detective he’s pretending to be. 

“Go ahead. You are talking about the portraits, correct?” There he goes, being perceptive as ever. He showed no sign of panic, or remorse. Though it’s a bit hard to read someone with half of their face covered.

“You said that you only paint women. The why isn’t really important but,” Saihara wavered, looking away. His hands were sweaty. “All those women I’ve seen in your portraits….are dead? And I-I’m not going to accuse you or anything but I, uh, know that there’s been some talk about a serial killer targeting women lately, and I just want you to know that I know.”

All Shinguji did was stare at Saihara as he tried to make a point, though mostly failing at it. When Saihara stopped, Shinguji sighed. In defeat or annoyance, Saihara didn’t know. “I… think I know what you are referring to. I know those women are dead. It’s… how my portraits usually go. At least when I draw women. I understand if you are uncomfortable around me now, but I have been questioning my past actions for awhile now.”

“Have you settled on an answer?”

Shinguji looked away from Saihara, at his drawing. “...Not yet.”

Saihara nodded. “I understand. A-and I don’t think I could ever be uncomfortable around you Shinguji-kun!”

Shinguji looked back up at Saihara, eyes widened. “Thank you, Saihara-kun… Though it is a bit strange to have this talk with a person affiliated with the law.”

“Ah, well that’s-” Saihara bit his cheek before he said anything more, but then decided that Shinguji would probably be one of the ones that would understand, and that he would want to tell. “Well, I’m not exactly a detective…”

“Still in training, right?” Shinguji added, and Saihara could feel his teasing smile. Right, the bit he added to his facade to try and make him more convincing. A detective unsure of his abilities would definitely freeze up when questioned about his work, and totally not an assassin covering up his identity. 

“Ah, well… Sorry. I don’t know how to word this? I’m really not a detective, at all. I lied. I-I was lying. I am lying?” Saihara did tug down his hat this time. “I just-, I thought that since I backed you into a corner, I should share some truth as well.”

Shinguji’s eyes widened again, and he placed a bandaged hand over his mouth, “May I assume your actual talent is of the same variety as my extracurricular activities?”

Saihara, still avoiding Shinguji’s eyes, nodded. Shinguji focused back to his drawing before speaking again, “Thank you for trusting me, Saihara-kun.”

That sentence made Saihara’s stomach flip. Trust wasn’t a common thing in his life, and he can only imagine how Shinguji treats it. Even if the topic of them both being killers doesn’t typically come up a lot, it’s a secret they trust each other with.

Most people in Hope’s Peak would be wary of Shinguji asking them to a meadow at least an half an hour away from the academy, being known as ‘that creepy artist’ and all, but Saihara is not of that group (though if this was a murder plot, Saihara still would have gone along with it. What does he have to lose, really?). So when Shinguji was animatedly explaining his idea that he wanted Saihara to be a prop in, Saihara agreed without a second thought. 

Saihara and Shinguji walked to the train station together, art supplies in tow. Shinguji had scouted out the area on one of his midnight walks away from campus, which caused Saihara to express concern for his safety which Shinguji replied with a remark about how he’s kind of a serial killer, and 6’2”.

The train ride wasn’t very long, but the walk to the meadow was. Saihara silently thought about how Shinguji made the original journey all on foot. The area Shinguji pointed out for Saihara to lie in was covered in wildflowers and has a pretty view of the sunset.

So here Saihara is, acting as a corpse as the sun starts to set, flowers waving softly in the slight breeze. Shinguji explained his vision as the corpse being a side note while the sunset is the main attraction. He said he wants it to make a strange feeling, of missing something that wasn’t there in the first place. 

Saihara isn’t sure what he means, or how a corpse would help convey that, but he’s happy to help him anyway. Even if the ground is a tad uncomfortable and he feels sleepy. Saihara really should try to sleep more at night because the grass is starting to feel a lot more comfortable.

“There. That will be good enough to dry. You’re free to get up now, Saihara-kun.” Shinguji opens a container to place his brushes in, then looks over at Saihara who hasn’t gotten up yet. Curious, Shinguji walks over and crouches down to the now sleeping Saihara. 

“Saihara-kun… Saihara-kun, wake up. It isn’t a good idea to sleep on the grass.” Shinguji nudges Saihara’s shoulder, and his eyes flutter open.

“Mm?” Saihara replies and groggily sits up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Kuhuhu… It is quite alright. Though,” Shinguji reaches out and cards one of his hands through Saihara’s hair, and plucks a flower out to present it to Saihara. “You may want to brush your hair when we get back.”

“Y-Yeah, probably.” Saihara tries to catch up to the present and not focus how warm Shinguji’s hand was even through the bandages. He briefly wonders where his hat fell when he got up, then notices how much darker it’s become. “Oh, what time is it?”

“Hmm, about six?” Shinguji guesses, then leans back to sit down next to Saihara. 

“Okay,” Saihara aligns himself so he’s next to Shinguji. “Do you wanna wait until the set sets to go back to the dorms? Might be a bit dangerous, b-but the sunset looks nice…”

“That would be lovely. I’ve made the trek back to the dorms in the dark before, it’s not that bad.” Shinguji turns his head towards Saihara, hair following his movements. “Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen you without your hat before.”

Saihara reaches up to his head, even though he knows it isn’t there, as if to confirm. He thinks that he doesn’t need his hat around Shinguji anymore.“Oh. I guess it fell?”

“Your eyes are beautiful, Saihara-kun.” Shinguji states boldly, and Saihara flushes and looks away. 

“O-Oh thanks, Sh-Shinguji-kun. I like your eyes too.” Saihara keeps his eyes on the ground, even though he said he wanted to watch the sunset.

Shinguji, however, is having none of it. He gently grabs Saihara’s chin, and turns him to look the blushing boy in the eyes. “If you wanted, you could just call me by my first name.”

“H-Huh? Um okay Korekiyo-kun, then-then you can call me Shuichi too!” Saihara just about combusts, and Shinguji lets him go.

“Please, just Kiyo is fine. But, thank you, Shuichi-kun.” Shinguji cocks his head in what must be a smile then turns his attention to the now almost set sun. Saihara nods and also focuses back on the sun. 

Eventually they do pack away the art supplies and Saihara grabs his hat (though he wears it with the brim higher than usual). Together they ride the train and make it back unscathed, though coming back to the dorms is met by a lecture from Akamatsu for getting back late after forgetting to tell anyone where they were going. 

At night, when he really should be sleeping, Saihara lies awake in bed thinking about Shinguji. About his unfairly beautiful hair and how he wants to run his fingers through it. About his stupid comforting eyes that makes him feel cared for. And those long arms he just wants to wrap around himself. And oh no, he can’t ignore these feelings, can he?


End file.
